Strange Attraction
by Magenta McKinley
Summary: Takes place a long time before rocky, Riff's thoughts about his feelings for Magenta, 2 chapters. Please R/R!
1. I can't think of a title

AN: I've had the idea to do this for a while, and here it is finally. This takes place a long time before rocky, longer than anything else I've written. I think...yeah. So ooooooh Riff is having funny feelings for his sister...ok just had to say that, that is actually pretty much what this is about. And I don't own rocky horror, but we are all fairly smart and know that already, right?  
  
She was already asleep when I entered the room, or at least close to it. She had turned out the lights, the only one left being that of the moon. I could see it floating outside the window, the most beautiful thing in all of Transylvania; both dark and radiant at the same time. But Magenta's beauty outshone even that of the moon, though she denied it whenever I told her this.  
She lay in bed, drowned in the subtle moonlight. She was unaware of my presence, lost in her own dreams. I stood still, afraid that I would disturb her peaceful state at the slightest movement. The moonlight played on her pale face, making her appear more beautiful than ever. Even when rid of makeup, her lips were still deep red, and her long, dark lashes spilled out around her closed eyes. One red curl lay separate from the rest that framed her face, falling disobediently in front of her closed eyes. I wanted to push it away, to fully uncover her face, but I was afraid of waking her.  
I walked across the room to my bed where my nightclothes lay, just as I had left them. I undressed and changed, leaving my clothing on the floor, not bothering to but them away. Ignoring own bed in front of me, I walked through the darkness over to Magenta's, sitting down next to her, softly, as not to disturb her. I touched my fingers to the strands of red that had made their way in front of her face, pushing them away. She stirred slightly, her eyes opening, framed by dark lashes. Silently, she pushed the covers back and moved over slightly, and I accepted her invitation by laying down next to her. I pulled the covers back up around us, wrapping my arms around my sister. She relaxed against me and closed her eyes once more, her head resting against my chest. I let my hand trail up and down her spine, knowing how this motion soothed her. I could feel each slow breath she took, from the slight pressing of her chest to mine, and her warm breath on my neck. The thin, dark fabric felt soft and smooth against my fingers, and I could tell that she wore nothing underneath. I wanted to wrap my arms around her tighter, to feel her body pressed against mine. I did nothing though, for I could tell that she had drifted to sleep now, and I did not want to wake her.  
I kept stroking her, running my fingers slowly over her back. The fabric of her nightgown lay stubbornly over her bare skin, which I wanted so badly to touch. She had lay in my arms on the verge of sleep countless times before, but I had never longed for anything more than that, as I did now. I wanted to be closer to her, as close as possible. I wanted to slip my hands underneath the dark fabric, to explore her body, touch her everywhere, not only her back.  
I forced these thoughts from my head, looking back down at my sister, still unaware of any of this. I supposed it was best that she did not know, for it may have scared her. It scared me. She was my sister, and I loved her, she loved me, but I was not supposed to want her that way. My sister, I repeated to myself, finally letting sleep wash over me as it had Magenta. My sister, that was all.


	2. Still no title

AN: I thought I had something worthwhile to say here...but apparently not. But please review, reviews fuel my existance. I'd appreciate more than one word...seriously, people, words are your friends.  
  
I lay alone in my bed, in the darkness of our room. Magenta's bed stood empty next to mine, and I wished for her to return. Our days were spent apart, her's still at the Academy, and it seemed the empty nights were our only time alone together. A light rain fell outside in the blackness, and I hoped she would return before it became heavier. Just as I thought this, I heard the faint creaking of the stairs, and her familiar footsteps in the hall. She opened the door, her figure silhouetted by the light of the hall, until she closed the door behind her.   
Her crimson lips formed a smile, and her eyes enveloped me in their stare; greeting never seemed necessary between us. She turned away, kicking her shoes off and walking over to her bed. Her slender fingers began to work at the buttons of her dress, slipping it from her shoulders. She undressed across the dark room, and though I told myself to avert my eyes, I could not. I don't believe I had seen her fully unclothed since we were children. The alabaster of her skin shown in the moonlight, and her arms glistened with the dampness of the rain. The light of the moon drowned her, giving the soft paleness of her skin an ethereal glow, like a perfectly carved statue come to life. I wished to climb from my bed right then and walk over to her, to wrap her in my arms just the way she was. But I held my self back. She picked up her nightgown and slipped it over her head, cover her white skin with black satin. Her hands attempted to untangle her fiery curls, and there was something dreadfully sensual about the way she ran her fingers through her hair. She reached for a black ribbon that lay on the nightstand, picking it up and tying back her untamed curls. Leave it down, I said to her, and she pulled it back out with a look of indifference. Auburn waves cascaded down to her shoulders, framing her pale face. She placed the ribbon back on the wood surface, coming over to me.  
She sat down beside me, and I pushed the covers back. Draping my arm over her shoulder, I welcomed her to lay down, and she did. Had she known that I had seen her change just now, how my eye had captured her and still held her in my mind. I could not tell. She lay close to me, resting her head against me. I could feel her long black lashes against my skin as her eyes closed, and a shiver ran though me. I stroked her hair, gently combing her mass of red curls with my fingers. Her hand rested across my chest, and I brought my other hand up, placing it on her's.   
I could tell that she was asleep already, though I could not see her face. Her heart beat against mine, as it had so many nights in the past, but I wanted to pull her closer still. She stirred in her sleep, moving off of me. She lay beside me now, and I wished to wrap my arms around her, to pull her back to me, though I did not want to wake her. I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down upon her. She was so beautiful; hardly any other word could describe her. Her scarlet lips stood out against her milky skin, and I wondered how they would feel pressed to mine. She lay only inches from me, and it amazed me at what a slight movement it would take to lean down and kiss her, to wrap her in my arms and touch her. It took every bit of control I had to keep from doing exactly that.  
My hand moved to the side of her face, stroking her smooth white cheek. She did not wake at my touch, but sighed in her sleep, her breast rising and falling with the slow intake of air. I found my hand trailing down her neck, and I pulled it away quickly before she woke. But as I looked at her from afar, I only wanted more to touch her. I couldn't take it.  
I threw the covers aside in a rush, fleeing the room. I shut the door behind me, leaning against the doorframe. I had slept with her as if she were a part of me for so many years; why did I so suddenly want to be with her this way? I loved her, I always had, but now it seemed I was _in_ love with her. With my sister. I leaned my head back against the wall.  
I heard her call from within the room. Apparently my sudden exit had awakened her. I inhaled deeply before opening the door and entering the dark room once again. Riff, what's the matter? she asked, her voice soft and low as always. It's nothing, I replied as she beckoned me to lay back down, comforting me with her hands and her eyes. Her eyes were as deep and dark as the oceans of Transsexual, and I could see them plagued with confusion. It's nothing, Magenta, I said again as I lay down with her. Her hand idly stroked my arm as she relaxed and closed her eyes once more. She had no idea what she was doing to me.


End file.
